


“Will You Help Me?”

by gosshawks



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, also expand ya tagging system ao3 nb characters exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gosshawks/pseuds/gosshawks
Summary: Prompt: Asrian with “will you help me?”Asra helps a very drunk Julian back to his rooms at the Palace after a late night of work and an even later night of drinking in the gardens.





	“Will You Help Me?”

Asra helps a very drunk Julian back to his room at the Palace—which the doctor jokingly calls his “on call room”—and opens the door, laughing as the man drapes himself over him with a groan. Eager to relax but too exhausted from the night’s work to venture down into the city, they’d settled for sharing a bottle or two of wine in the balmy Palace gardens. And Julian had gone a bit overboard. 

“Ilya, you can make it. It’s only a few more steps, and then you can sleep,” says Asra, half-helping, half-dragging him inside. 

“I think you’ll need to carry me,” he mumbles into his neck, making him shiver. 

“Then I’m afraid you’re out of luck. I don’t think I could pick you up without one end of you or the other touching the ground.” Julian gives a wheezy, surprised laugh. 

“Maybe if you hold me over your head,” he says, trying to find his feet and failing. 

“Ha!” Asra helps him onto the bed. The moment he releases him he plops back onto the mattress with a low groan. “Ilya! Come on, now. You can’t possibly sleep like this, your boots are still on.” He claps his hands in front of his face to try and wake him up, but Julian just groans and turns his head away. 

“Too tired. Too full of wine.” Julian peers up at him blearily, and he thinks he can see a thought occur to him. “…I’d have too much trouble with my buttons and buckles. Will you help me?” He bites his lip, and there’s no missing the flush spreading across his face. Asra’s always been fond of that quality of his: he’d go red at anything, his cheeks, his nose, the tips of his ears, his neck, his chest. He can be so easy to read.

Asra arches a brow and crosses his arms, smiling wryly. “I thought you were too tired.” 

“Only for some things,” he says, beckoning to him. 

“Well, it _would_ be cruel to leave you like this.” Asra kneels in front of him and starts to slide off the garters on his boots, one, then the other. He can hear Julian make a rumbling noise low in his chest, and presses a kiss to the inside of his thigh. “You could do us both a favor and wear fewer layers. I don’t know how you stand it in this heat, anyway.” 

“I do sometimes,” Julian says, slurring and defensive. “Sometimes I don’t wear my jacket _or_ my greatcoat. I am capable of dressing casually.” 

“You could stand to do it more,” Asra teases him, removing his boots. Climbing onto the bed, he straddles him and starts to work at his jacket. Julian bucks lazily against him, biting back a groan, and holds his waist. Asra rolls his hips, smirking, as he tugs off his massive black jacket. It’s more of a blanket, really. “What was that?” 

Julian shakes his head, watching him blearily, and he leans down to kiss him. “You’d better not fall asleep,” Asra warns him.

“I promise I won’t,” he whines, kissing him back. He can already feel him getting hard.

“Good.” Asra nips at his lip and sits up, working at his belt. Any other time he’d tease him, grinding against him, undoing the tassels with painful slowness. But he really is worried he’ll fall asleep, so instead he tugs them undone and slides down his pants. He shifts back to kneel between Julian’s legs and strokes his cock, almost purring. Julian inhales sharply, burying his still-gloved hand in his white curls. 

“Ah—!” 

Pleased, Asra kisses along his hip, then runs his tongue up his length. Julian bucks against him, whining, his free hand clutching at the bedspread. Asra pins him to the bed, resting his palm flat on his stomach, and sucks at the tip of his cock with a low hum. Julian yanks at his hair, moaning louder than usual. His noises in the library, in his room, are always muffled behind his hand or a bit lip, like he’s afraid someone will hear. But there’s none of that now. 

Asra likes that, maybe more than he’s willing to admit. 

He pulls his mouth off of him with a _pop_ and watches him, grinning, feeling a flush spread across his face. “Sorry, did you say something?” 

“ _Asra_ ,” he says through clenched teeth, arching needily against the bed. 

“Mm?” He watches him, smiling, eyes half-closed, and watches Julian go even redder. He’s torturing him, he knows. He can’t help it. 

“P-please, Asra—“ he says. 

“Oh, you want me to continue? Why didn’t you just say so?” Julian gives a forced laugh that trails into a moan as Asra takes him in his mouth again, lazily stroking the inside of his thigh with his thumb. 

He sucks on him, feeling his fingers clench and unclench in his hair as he bucks into his mouth. From the beginning Asra knew it wouldn’t be a drawn out affair, not like this, not starting out half undone. And before long Julian comes with a shuddering gasp, yanking hard at his hair. He slumps back against the bed, breathing hard, and Asra glances up to see him watching him, flushed, messy, lips slightly parted. It—…it’s a good view. 

Asra sits back, humming, not breaking eye contact as he wipes the cum from his mouth so he can lick it off his fingers. Julian moans weakly, and he climbs up to kiss him, slow, almost soft. “Now you can sleep.” 

“Mm, stay—“ 

“If I do neither of us will sleep,” Asra starts to protest, but he takes him by the chin pulls him in for another kiss. 

“I’ll sleep,” he slurs. “I’ll-I’ll be good. Just stay.” That does something to him, makes something in his chest squirm warmly like it hasn’t in—not since—

He watches him a moment, considering, then presses a kiss to the top of his head. “…Very well, Ilya.” He moves Julian’s gangly legs up onto the bed and sits at the edge, removing his boots. He feels him sit up behind him, slide his long vest off his shoulders, press a kiss to the back of his neck. 

“You have too many layers, too,” he teases him, pulling off his scarf and dropping it on the floor. Smiling despite himself, Asra turns his head and kisses him. 

“Mm, still not as many buckles, though.” Julian laughs, sliding his hand up his shirt to rub his back. Asra sets down his pendant and crawls into bed with him, pausing to blow out the light. 

“I meant it, Ilya. Go to sleep.” He grumbles something, curling up with him (more like around him, he’s so absurdly tall). 

“Yes, yes. As you wish.” 

Asra closes his eyes and starts to drift off almost immediately. As he falls asleep he thinks he can feel Julian kissing his knuckles. _That’s nice_ , he half-thinks, slipping into unconsciousness.


End file.
